


Not the Hair

by Liondragon (Sameshima_Shuzumi)



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Collection: Fandom Stocking 2014, Comment Fic, Hair, M/M, Natural Hair, Wordcount: 100-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 20:04:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5346845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sameshima_Shuzumi/pseuds/Liondragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John says it's allowed. <em>A fandom_stocking stuffer.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Not the Hair

**Author's Note:**

  * For [twinsarein](https://archiveofourown.org/users/twinsarein/gifts).



> Originally posted 1 January 2015 for twinsarein.

"Who said you weren't allowed to touch it!?" John had his hand on Ronon's shoulder, which was normally a dangerous move, but this was kind of important.

Ronon tilted his head in McKay's direction. Of. Course.

"Maybe he was joking, buddy," John said. Somewhere in there he'd decided to live dangerously and keep his hand where it was. 

Ronon picked it up and guided him by the wrist to run his palm along Ronon's scalp. John swallowed. He'd expected it to be more scraggly but instead it was a nice kind of springy-soft. There was a faint outline of a hidden blade — Ronon made sure not to press his skin into it.

John briefly wondered what he'd done to deserve that kind of intel. 

That night Ronon laid him out, lavished every inch with that razor attention, and dug his hands into his hair as he pushed inside. John choked. Ronon pulled his head back just that much, and muttered into his ear: "Breathe."

John blinked through the sweet sting of Ronon's fist alternately clenching and caressing, of the steady pump of his hips, being steered into every kiss. Ronon ran the tip of his tongue in a line on John's neck, along which he could just as easily cut open. Just before he careened over the edge, John thought it was weird that Ronon didn't hold back — he was just naturally gentle with his hands.

Later John figured maybe he ought to save the hair for special occasions because he wouldn't be steady enough in the morning to wash that tell-tale unrulyness from the top of his head.  
   
   
 


End file.
